Page 96 of What Matters Most

“I suppose I’ll have to.”

“Not necessarily. You could make a fool of me the way you did last night.”

“Me?” she gasped. “You don’t need me to make you look like a fool. You do a bang-up job of it yourself.”

His mouth tightened as he stepped into her apartment and sank down on the sofa.

Abby sat as far away from him as possible. “Well?” She was determined not to make this easy.

“Patty was in a lot of pain when I drove her to the hospital the night of the accident,” he began.

“Uh-huh.” She sympathized with Patty but didn’t know why he was bringing this up.

Logan’s voice was indifferent. “I was talking to her, trying to take her mind off how much she was hurting. It seems that in all the garble I rashly said I’d take her to dinner.”

“I suppose you also—rashly—suggested the Sheraton?” She felt chilled by his aloofness and she wasn’t going to let him off lightly.

An awkward silence followed. “I don’t remember that part, but apparently I did.”

“Apparently so,” she returned with forced calm. “Maybe I could forget the dinner date, but not the perfume. Honestly, Logan, that was a rotten thing to do.”

Impatience shadowed his tired features. “It’s not what you think. I got her cologne. Not perfume.”

“For heaven’s sake,” she said, exasperated. “Can’t you be more original than that?”

“But it’s the truth.”

“I know that. But you can’t go through life giving women perfume and cologne every time the occasion calls for a gift. And even worse, you chose the same scent!”

“It’s the only one I know.” He shook his head. “All right, the next time I buy a woman a gift, I’ll take you along.”

“The next time you buy a woman a gift,” she interrupted in a stern voice, “it had better be me.”

He ignored her statement. “Abby, how could you believe I’m attracted to Patty?”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. “Maybe I can believe that you really do care about me. But I’ve seen the way Patty looks at you. It wouldn’t take more than a word to have her fall in love with you. I don’t want to see her hurt.” Or any of us, for that matter, Abby mused. “I don’t believe you’re using Patty to make me jealous,” she said honestly. “I mean, I wondered about it, but then decided you weren’t.”

“I’m glad you realize that much.” He breathed out in obvious relief.

“But I recognize the looks she’s giving you, Logan. She wants you.”

“And Tate wants you!”

Abby’s shoulders sagged. “Don’t go bringing him into this discussion. It’s not right. We were talking about you, not me.”

“Why not? Isn’t turnabout fair play?” The contempt in his expression made her want to cry.

“That’s tiddlywinks, not love,” she said saucily.

“But if Patty looks at me with adoring eyes, it only mirrors the way Tate looks at you.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” she said, annoyed by his false logic.

Slowly Logan rubbed his chin. “It’s always amazed me that you can twist a conversation any way you want.”

“That’s not true,” she said, hating the fact that he’d turned the situation around to suit himself.

“All right, let’s put it like this—if you mention Patty Martin, then I mention Tate Harding. That sounds fair to me.”

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